


The Right Provocation

by hiddenquill



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sneezing, sneeze kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenquill/pseuds/hiddenquill
Summary: Thorin has a cold, and Bilbo helps him relieve a stuck sneeze. Nothing to see here but sneeze kink, folks.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Kudos: 45





	The Right Provocation

Thorin had been sniffling all day, and Bilbo felt sure it was only stubbornness that was preventing him from taking to his bed. “You’re ill, aren’t you?” he asked, at the point where Thorin drew a handkerchief from his pocket for the dozenth time that morning and scrubbed his reddening nose with it. 

“I may have a cold coming on,” Thorin admitted, holding the handkerchief poised. “And a sneeze, if it will only … hhh …hhh… hhhnnggchhhhooo! That's been a while coming.” He wiped his nose.   
  
“Bless,” Bilbo said. “But you should rest if you’re catching cold.”   
  
“I’m not feverish. It’s only … hhh … hnnnhh … hnnn!” His uneven breaths ended in a noise of frustration. “The unending urge to sneeze, without much satisfaction. If I could only ...” He sniffled deliberately, drew a deep breath, and then sneezed violently. “Ah-ksscchhhhoooooo! That’s better. No, it’s not. Ngh.” He scrubbed at his nose with the handkerchief, his eyes fluttering closed, and then eventually opened his eyes again, scowling. “Damn this cold.”   
  
“When I have a cold in the nose, it helps to make myself sneeze until I’m sneezed out,” Bilbo said. “Even if it makes my head ache, it’s better than the awful itch.”   
  
“I would if I could.”   
  
“Is there anything that makes you sneeze? A horse blanket will do it for me.” He kept one for that purpose, put away carefully in a chest with hair still clinging to it.   
  
The last time he had been suffering from a cold that left him feeling miserably sneezy with no business resulting, he’d opened the chest, sat himself down in an armchair with a stack of handkerchiefs, and then buried his face in the blanket, taken a deep breath, and sneezed. He blew his nose into a handkerchief, buried it in the blanket again, and waited for it to make him sneeze again.   
  
He used the blanket to make himself sneeze until he finally provoked a violent fit, six wet explosions in a row ending in a tremendous “HNGGCHOO!” that finally cleared his sinuses. Then he folded it away in the trunk again, sneezing three times in the process and sniffling into his sleeve. His nose had run like a faucet afterwards, and he’d sneezed enormously several times an hour, but it was worth it for the relief.   
  
“Not that I know of,” Thorin said.   
  
“I can see if I can find something.”   
  
“Pray experiment,” Thorin said, looking momentarily amused, and then frowned again. “Hhh, hnnhh …” He looked seconds away from sneezing, and then shook his head ruefully. “It itches,” he said, and scrubbed at his nose unsatisfyingly.   
  
Fur proved useless, although Thorin pronounced it soothing to his reddening nose. Tickling Thorin's nostrils with a feather made him wrinkle his nose and protest that it worsened the tickle without providing relief. Waving pepper under his nose made Thorin wince at the burning sensation it provoked when he sniffed it up, but still no sneeze.   
  
“I must get this pepper out,” he said, rubbing more desperately at his nose. “Hnnh!”   
  
“A flower,” Bilbo said. “There are those roses outside the gate -- last time we talked there, you sneezed five times.”   
  
“So I did,” Thorin admitted. “I thought I was sickening then, but I was well enough that night. All right, fetch one.”   
  
Bilbo brought in a whole pitcher brimming with roses, velvety and heavily scented. Thorin’s nose wrinkled again. “That smell …” he began.   
  
“Breathe it in,” Bilbo said, and held the roses under Thorin’s nose.   
  
“Hhh … hssschhhhisshh!” The sneeze came on almost instantly, and was followed by a violent fit. “Httchhhooo! Htcchoooo! Hisschhhhhh! Isscchhhhhahhh!” Thorin shook his head like a dog, but kept his face buried stubbornly in the bouquet. It took only a single breath to make himself sneeze again. “Hhh … haacchhhhhooo! Hwwnnnchhoo! HASSCHHHHHH!”   
  
“Better?”   
  
He drew a breath and hesitated, as if not sure he could speak rather than sneeze. “Yes. Just need to … hwacchhhoooo! Finish. Hhh … isschhhahhhh! Hehhisscchhhhh! Hah, heh … heh … hmmppcch.” He stifled the last one into his handkerchief, and Bilbo drew the flowers away. 

“Bless,” Bilbo said. “Surely that’s enough.” 

“For now,” Thorin said, but he kept his handkerchief in his hand as if feeling it was best to be prepared. 


End file.
